


Waiting for a Sign (or better)

by altilis



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, Celibacy, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:18:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altilis/pseuds/altilis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirrorverse. Spock is three things: a teenager, a cadet, and Christopher Pike's advisee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for a Sign (or better)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to sullacat for the beta! :)

When Starfleet first accepts him, his father warns him about everything – about watching his back, about watching others, about eating only food he can trust – but most of all, Sarek warns him about the sex.

It's the most flippant conversation he has ever had with his father to date, and one that Spock never hopes to repeat again. It is apparently the only thing humans want and think about (with the exception, of course, of his mother), and it's one of the few things Spock has yet to experience. He has had better things to do.

By the time he steps foot in San Francisco, Spock expects everyone he sees to make lewd gestures or press up against him; he gets long stares instead. When he endures the bootcamp on campus, he expects his fellow cadets to be rough, physical, and hormonal.

And they are, to give his father credit, but they are also weak, and after a couple of bruising elbows to the face and chest, they learn to leave Spock alone. Indifference turns to active ostracizing when the adviser listings are released, and Starfleet assigns him to Captain Christopher R. Pike. The irony doesn't elude him: who better to mentor their new Vulcan cadet than the very man who destroyed the last rebellion?

He feels uncomfortably warm under the man's gaze during their first meeting in Pike's office. "If you want to survive here," Pike starts, "you'll listen to me, and you'll tell me everything I want to know, whenever I ask. Understood?"

Spock understands perfectly.

\--

Pike invites him to his residence after two weeks under the guise of having Spock informing him of his progress and acclimation. Spock knows that it's really about plying him with red wine and dark chocolate until he presents himself to Pike without struggle.

It still makes him feel warm when he thinks about it, though, and he spends an hour or so that afternoon thinking about what it would be like, problem sets ignored in his distraction. He's not looking forward to it, or he shouldn't, if this productivity lost is anything to go by.

He wonders if he'll be injured in some way, or if it will actually be enjoyable.

It starts off enjoyable: free dinner, a glass of water from the same pitcher Pike drinks from, and conversation that's actually two-sided, not just a list of Pike's demands. It's eleven-thirty by the time they're done with discussion.

"You can stay," Pike says as Spock takes the dishes (he volunteered). "I'd recommend you do, since it's past curfew." By over three hours – Pike had planned it that way by setting the appointment at seven, Spock's certain.

"Very well," he agrees, and his expectations for the night are set. He nearly drops a glass into the sink, but catches it at the last moment.

  
"You can have this room," Pike says later, showing him the spare bedroom. A twin-sized bed is neatly tucked in the corner with bland navy sheets. The room has no windows. "Be up and ready by seven, if you don't want to walk back to campus."

"Understood."

And then Pike leaves.

In the privacy of the room, Spock strips off his cadet jacket and undershirt, and then sits on the bed and waits. He wonders if this is how it's supposed to go, if there's some sort of line that he left out. Somewhere in his worry-panic, Spock realizes that Pike hasn't come back. Convinced he's missed a step, yet unsure how to correct this faux pas, he rises from the bed and heads out into the hallway. The door to Pike's bedroom is open, a fact that intrigues and unnerves Spock. He approaches quietly.

Finally, he reaches the doorway and lingers just outside of it, but he can see the room well enough: the king bed, the dark wood bureau, and Pike himself sitting shirtless on the far side of the bed, fiddling with something Spock can't see, his back to the door. If Spock had a phaser, or even a knife –

"What do you want, Spock?"

Spock nearly jumps at his voice (but he doesn't, because that would be undignified), and is instantly standing rigid and at rest, his hands behind his back. While also shirtless. "Did you have any other plans for the evening, sir?" Spock asks, and hopes they don't deviate too far from tradition, because he's already uncertain about the future of his career at Starfleet—and there are no alternatives.

Pike finally looks over his shoulder, and then turns slowly in his seat to face him. "To do what?" He smirks. "Fuck you?"

Spock doesn't—can't—say anything.

"Come here," Pike says, and he snaps at a place on the ground.

Spock steps over to the same side of the bed. He reminds himself this is all necessary and expected.

"Kneel," Pike orders.

Spock kneels, and he's caught between instinctive terror and arousal at the sight he has as Pike shifts: looking up at the Captain from between his legs, seeing the slight bulge to his trousers and the hair that spreads across Pike's chest and leads to it. He swallows and fists his hands on his knees, and he doesn't notice where his gaze lingers until Pike grabs his chin and forces him to look up.

"There's nothing stopping me from having you suck my cock right now, do you understand? Nothing. Not your parents, not that crazy brother of yours—they can't stop me from pounding your ass until you can't walk tomorrow morning." Pike's calm and conversational, not overly intimidating, but Spock's eyes are wide and he doesn't dare pull back. "But I have better things to do than fuck cadets, especially when they're open for anyone."

"I am not—"

"Are you? You're no better than those other boys out there, and I can see it right now. You're practically in heat, waiting for me to fuck you so you'll have something to talk about with them. No, Spock," Pike leans closer, close enough for Spock to see the grey of his eyes, "if you want any of my attention, you'll have to prove you're not another up-and-coming whore, so that when I fuck you, I won't have somebody else's fleas in my bed." He leans back again and releases Spock's chin. "Now get some rest."

Spock stands without a word and walks off for the spare bedroom again, and it's not until he's under the covers that he allows himself to breathe again. He feels flushed, hot, and breathless; his hands shake; he feels an uncomfortable pressure between his legs; he can’t stop thinking about that hand on his face.

He wants Pike's attention.

\--

There are several good opportunities at sexual intercourse that Spock passes up that year, and the next, and the next, and all for the chance to say to Pike at their bimonthly dinners, "I have been with no one," in the vain hope that Pike won't just send him to sleep alone.

There are nights when Spock questions why he's doing this, why he keeps pining for the touch of a man he should loathe. It's foolish. It's emotional. It leaves him vulnerable. Spock says nothing of this arrangement to his father because he is ninety-six percent sure Sarek would disown him for it.

And then Pike pats him on the shoulder or the cheek, or commends him for destroying the grading curve, and Spock wants _more_.

The need can be almost painfully distracting at times, especially when he sees Pike smirk at his words. Pike believes him and acknowledges his celibacy, but he also recognizes the agony of it, and sometimes gets too close just to see Spock crack.

It's one of those nights in the living room. Pike sits in the armchair reading something on his PADD, and Spock sits on the rug, supposedly doing his problem set but mostly watching Pike (how does relativistic quantum field theory even compare?).

"Something wrong?" Pike asks, not looking up. He could have killed this man so many times; Spock wonders, too, why he hasn't.

"No," he answers, and looks down at his own PADD, filled with formulas and symbols. "...sir."

"Hm?"

"It has been three years."

"Since?"

"Since you told me your criteria—for your attention." Spock glances up. The brief silence gives him hope that maybe Pike will reconsider, if just for Spock's dedication and the riches he has brought both of their reputations.

Pike looks back at him. "You're still a cadet."

Spock straightens up slightly. "If I were not?"

"I'll think about it."

\--

His family visits for graduation, and they search him out after the ceremony is due. Sybok messes up his hair. His mother kisses him on the cheek. Sarek nods once in approval. They want to take him up to Vancouver for some recuperation, but he defers it to the next morning. "I must pack my belongings," he tells his mother, and she believes him.

He walks in the other direction, and takes his time under the surprisingly cool May afternoon. Along the way, Spock takes off the gloves and unbuttons the restricting collar of the jacket, but he's still taking deep breaths when he sees the hovercar already parked in front of Pike's residence. He's already back.

The door opens to his code. Inside, the house is silent. "Sir?" he calls out, and there's no response.

He walks slowly down the hallway, peering into the empty lounge, then the empty study, until he turns the corner towards the kitchen and he's pinned back into the wall. At first, his arms push out towards the man, but they're deflected to the side, and then their bodies press close, and Spock can smell Pike's familiar cologne. His cheeks flush hot – he can feel it – and his whole body jerks when Pike grabs his crotch in a hard, unyielding grip.

"Do you want this?" Pike whispers to his ear. Spock doesn't answer; he's too busy grabbing at Pike's shoulders. His grip tightens, and he asks again, louder, "Do you want this?"

"Yes," It's more of squeak than a confirmation, but—

Pike kisses him hard, taking all control that just slips through Spock's fingers, and Spock moans into it, feeling harder and hotter than he ever has in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Also at [Dreamwidth.](http://altilis.dreamwidth.org/22924.html)


End file.
